Misguided Ghosts
by xoxo.marie
Summary: The war is not over. Voldemort is dead but his surviving followers remain. It's just about time the sharks reveal themselves under the water's surface. In the meantime, what has become of the rest? Misguided ghosts, the survivors of the war begin having unexpected meetings, conflicts, and a story to continue where they left off. [ canon-based ships ]
1. Prologue

**authors note: I'd like to start off saying thank you to someone lovely that helped form this idea with me, Raquel, who is a super amazing person. Some chapters further on were helped created by her. She's super fabulous.**

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When did you know the battle was over?

The cheers that broke out through the halls of a damaged, ruined castle? That seemed like the likely answer. Granted, they would not be cheering if they had lost. Anything but. In fact, they probably would have gone on fighting till every last breath was taken. It was nauseating to hear such optimistic sounds, though it meant that the hell had finally ceased. The antagonists in the form of Death Eaters fled the scene and in their wake, all was left was the survivors. The smell of rotted flesh and metallic scent of spilled blood drifted through the space of the crumbled castle. Through the relieved cheers of the broken hearted, whimpers were heard from those grieving.

Dawn was rising, beams of light spreading through the gaps of the demolished castle walls. The sun to be a sign that everything was going to be okay. That everything was fine. That the surviving wizards and witches could finally** breathe** because no spells where being thrown to add to the body count. Right then, they believed they won. That it was over.

Did anyone actually win in this war? How did the calls and relieved laughter be allowed when right below, a family member wasn't able to join them. Be relieved, but bask in the silence. Bask in the peace that wasn't before. Good Merlin, though, as you move those stiff muscles as pain reminds you that you are amongst the living….do not cheer. Do not laugh. Save it for later. Now is the time to allow mourning and comfort. It's over, right?

It's over?

Was it ever really... _over_...?

That was a question no one dared to ask.

On the cold hard ground, a lifeless corpse of the antagonist laid. Voldemort was dead. He now fell to Death the same way he had brought others. Nevertheless, his brainwashed followers did not vanish. They did not fall off this earth nor were they fragments of the imagination.

They fled.

They did not leave, however.

Hope came forth with the good news: Kingsley now sitting as Minister of Magic, the imperio'd having the curse lifted, turning back into their natural selves, and innocent people now being freed from Azkaban. Why would any one sense….that it was only the first wave?

It was not over. Some may have turned, regretted their mistakes and like those imperiod, came to a sense of reality. However, not all of them had that second chance. Some lived in the shadows of their mind, brainwashed with prejudice. They just needed time to gather followers and grow stronger. Then the storm would crash down all over again just as people began to bask in the sun.

...-[ Two Years Later]-...

_Splish, splash!_

_Splish, splash! _

How annoyingly noisy it was to have shoes slap against the puddles of a dark alley way. It was impossible to mask, the rainstorm did help dull it out, its rain splattering consistently down on it's own pools. A knock came to a damp wooden door from an impatient fist, the other hand going inside a dark cloak.

"Oh-hurry up, will you?!" Barked out a gruff voice. A muttered, "_Bloody git…_" followed under his breath.

There was suddenly a sliver of light coming from a cracked door, "Password?"

"Really? We're going to do this? Why don't I just blast down your bleedin' door first and then-"

"Procedure is procedure." There was mild cheek in the other as the door was beginning to shut. The drenched man slapped his hand against the door to stop it.

"Fine, oh fine. _Mot de pass!_" he snapped and the door swung open, the man stepping inside.

With a gruff, he began wiping over his clock, a dark wand came up to scan the area as the door shut, only to reveal rusted hinges in their shrill cry. Pursing his lips, the hood was dropped behind his back, revealing brunet locks sticking to the bridge of his nose and narrowed, skeptic eyes. Meeting the others gaze, the two frowned at another.

"Nott," The other greeted, shaking his head. "I have to say, it was a real shocker when you wanted to meet us. I swear, if you pull anything funny-"

"I've had worse than you, Finnigan." He snapped without missing a beat. "Now, do not waste my time. Salazar knows what will happen to me if I get caught doing this. You've already delayed me of precious time, no?"

"Hey! There was procedure to be done. I couldn't risk you coming in and-"

"At least think of a clever password. I'll be damned if I think there's any sort of intelligence reeking from you if your _password—_" he used air-quotes, "is just '_password'_ in French!"

"I thought it was clever." He mumbled with a shrug.

"Oi! Shut up in there!" A voice came from around the corner and out came a ginger male with furrowed eyebrows. Blue eyes flickered back and forth between the two and the tension in his shoulders did not leave. "Bloody hell, if I wanted you two to bicker over pointless rubbish… I would have set this up to do just that!" Red ears were portraying his anger towards this. It probably wasn't the first time they had this dispute.

"Ay! He was giving me lip! If he just-"

"_Seamus."_

"Fine. Have fun with 'im, Ronnie. Big ol' Auror, now, you obviously-"

"_Seamus._"

"I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" The male threw his hands in the air and turned around a bleak hallway. Soon after, there were footsteps pounding up an unseen staircase. Listening carefully, there were other voices too.

"I hate him. In fact, I never understand why he's here." Theodore Nott said, pointing to Seamus' general direction.

"I don' understand why _you're _here." Ron retorted, narrowing his eyes and looking incredibly awkward with this whole situation. "Frankly, I don' know how you earned Harry's trust in the first place. Seeing as he's out of town on some bloody mission, I suppose I have to deal with yea."

"How comforting." The other drawled back, narrowing his eyes. Digging his hand in his pocket once more, he drew out a piece of old parchment that was folded repeatedly. "Potter doesn't trust me. No one does. Seems getting labeled a snake downsizes me in a house of pretentious Gryffindors, really. I'm just telling you what I know and what I found."

"—And what's that?" Ron asked, taking the paper Theo handed over to him.

"Information."

"Be more elaborate, you prick."

The corner of Theo's face twitched before he rubbed the back of his neck. "They're regrouping…and fast."

Ron Weasley's eyes scanned over the page he began to unfold. "Where…did you get this?"

"I have my sources. Just-Just take that. Do what you heroes do…and leave me out of it. I don't want what happened two years ago to repeat."

Eyes flashed up at the Post Slytherin as the sound of lighter footsteps began to come downstairs. "So, you're a coward. That's why you're here."

Pursing his lips, he refused to answer, eyes flickering to the corner of the wall where a petite figure began to come out. The bushy-haired brunette stopped short, looking up at the two men in the room with brown hues. Tired eyes suggested a lack of sleep but nevertheless, she managed a weak smile. "We appreciate your help." After she stated this, she had no problem approaching Ron with a less patient façade. "Though some of us have a difficult time expressing gratitude towards someone risking a _lot _for us and our cause." This came out rather fast like shots being fired. "—What's that?" she asked, moving up to observe what Ron was holding.

That very second, the door was opened with a sharp creak like before as Theo simply left the room without a word.

"-Ron?" she asked, attempting to take it from him as her eyes flickered all over. Eyebrows furrowed together. "_Ron._ What is it?"

"…Numbers." He finally answered, watching the door lock in place.

"Coordinates." She elaborated, pursing her lips once she had it in her own hands. "Death Eater coordinates. Actually…more than that….A trail. They've been spotted coming towards London? Wow. I knew they would try and come near here but even two years seems a bit too soon."

"We should bring this to the rest of the Order. Before, you know, the store owner comes back." He muttered, glancing at her.

"…I thought you said this place was safe."

"It is. Just….when it's closing time. Don't look at me like that! Stop it, Hermione. I'm not gonna bring a Slytherin into the Grimmauld Place!"

"Let's just leave, alright? Also, why is Seamus here anyway?"

Ron was heading towards the stairs to try and fetch the man himself. "…He likes asking for the password!"

"Ronald Weasley, you are twenty years old-is that really a factor-?"

"I'm only joking! Good..._God._" Ron grumbled out.

"I'm right here you know." Seamus said, apparently sitting on the stairs.

"I can see that."

Hermione was apparently memorizing what was printed on the paper. "...So why is it?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows together. "That we're trusting one of Malfoy's friends?"

"Harry says he has reliable information. He doesn't like it either. It's just how it is." Seamus said, coming around the corner swiftly and brushing past Ron.

Ron lifted his hand to his mouth as though it were better not to say anything at all.

"Well...Theo is working for good people now. He wasn't even all that bad at Hogwarts, I think. We should..."

Ron's hand moved from his lips. "Kick him in the nuts to remind him that-"

"_No. _I was going to say, give him a chance. People change, you know."

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**Hope you continue the story! Thanks for taking the time to read.**


	2. ch 2: Meeting before a Storm

[ DRACO ]

Most people, when they woke up from a nightmare, would urge themselves to know it was _just a dream._Draco knew better. It _wasn't _a dream. It never was.

Though the room was thick with darkness, he could still see those scattered red splashes, fragments from the nightmare's scene. Beads of sweat stuck onto his blond hairline like rain against glass. His grey eyes flickered around at nothing in particular. Just something. Anything. A distraction to revert to a time before this night. Funny, he couldn't find a damn thing to help him. It was all the same and he had stared at this ceiling a million times before after a million nightmares. There was no clock to turn back. It was **always**. As the muscles in his fingers strained, he reminded himself he needed to calm down. There wasn't a threat. Not anymore.

He was safe.

Draco Malfoy was safe.

Except from himself.

His pulse was rapidly pelting in his neck and in his chest, the sounds of panicked breaths disrupting the silence of the room. He muttered pleading words such as '_Oh, God_' followed by crass curses to whatever suited him at the time. Half of it might not have even made sense. He sat up quickly, accidentally cracking his back against the headboard behind him. His pillows seemed to be hanging off the bed, on the floor, or angled away from him. Running a hand through his hair and musing it up slightly, he frowned.

"I need some air…" he figured, swinging his long legs from the side of his bed. He pulled himself up and rubbed his slightly damp neck. The hand that swung beside his thigh was still shaking.

When he managed to throw on some simple, warm clothes, he left his flat as dark as it was when he woke up. Basically he used the glow of his enchantment from wand point the whole while. What was the point of turning the lights on? To help make himself feel more secure in the dark? He wasn't scared of the dark. He lived in it.

Trotting down the steps after setting up some quick wards, his wand slipped into his jacket pocket. His hand rested there as he checked to make sure there was no _spontaneous_ company. Turning to the streets of London, he continued on determinedly. Time wasn't of his essence tonight. There was lack of muggle vehicles and their owners he avoided like the plague. These days he seemed to avoid everyone, non magic folks were not so special in guests of his detachment. It was just fortunate right then and there because he didn't want a soul to see him in this tormented state.

Soon, he was sitting on a bench after a while of stretching his legs and avoiding not to ram into poles. Sitting there, a chill went up his spine. Was he not equally as vulnerable right then? What was the point in coming out here? A sigh left a grey cloud swirling in front of his mouth as he leaned back into frigid wood. The hourglass of night might have had a crack in it because it went by too quickly. He sat there pointlessly as the sky turned a pale pink behind heavy, grey clouds. Oh, typical. He should have smelled it in the air, that metallic scent that came right before a storm. Hairs underneath layers of cloth stood up and he thought twice about going home now.

Lighter and lighter, the sky began to turn. The pink faded into blue and he heard noises building up all around. His back tensed up even more when the whizzing of cars began to make their presence known; even more so when he began to see people shuffle past him. By this point, his foot fell asleep and his bum went numb underneath him. Purplish bags built up slightly around restless orbs as his eyelids dropped. He simply stared at a tree and avoided eye contact. Every time a face would so much as glance in his direction, he would violently purse his lips. Occasionally, it took a direct glare to have them move faster. Most ignored him. It was typical. After all, the begging question why a Pureblood Wizard with the label as 'pretentious' and 'prejudiced' was there was simple.

No one knew him here.

Wasn't it obvious?

"Mind if I sit here?" Chirped a voice. Seemed forced, he duly noted.

Silver eyes flashed up to a brunette woman preoccupying herself in a search within her purse. A blond eyebrow stuck up.

"Yes." he stated, only to reflect on how his answer was delivered. Did it sound choked up? Like he hadn't talked in days?

"It'll only be a second." she stated, still not looking at him as she turned on her shoe and gently sat beside him.

Frowning, his exhausted eyes glared at her. Fully glared and didn't hold back in the slightest. The _nerve _of this muggle! "_Excuse you…_" he drawled out, turning his head parallel with his shoulder. "Your invitation was declined. Now _get._"

Eyes as blue as a sky that never seemed to come these past weeks flashed over to him, ripping away from their focus. "I said it would be a second."

"Funny, feels like a minute."

They glared at each other.

Then, she resumed to flipping through probably meaningless objects till she pulled out a folder. Well, almost did. The moment he spoke again, she dropped it, nearly jumping.

"I said go!"

"Who pissed in your tea this morning?" she shot out, guilt flushing her cheeks. Pursing rose-tinted lips into a fine line, she shook her head. "You know what? Forget it. If my presence bothers you so much, _you_ can leave."

Unbelievable.

He faced forward, hands gripping onto his knees. Heart beginning to race again, eyes continuously flickering towards her, "What are you looking for? Your sense of mannerisms?"

Her movements slowed to an abrupt stop. "It appears they ran away with your own."

"I wasn't the one who decided to sit down without permission."

"Mmm...but it's common mannerisms to say '_I don't mind_' when it's as insignificant as a lady sitting down for a second."

A wicked grin pulled up his lips as a mocking light tone broke out."Astounding, really. I don't seem to care."

With that, she did something strange-she smiled.

Her shoulders shook with a quick, inaudible laugh. Was that funny, or something?

Closing her purse, she checked the front pocket. Her humored expression morphed into sudden shock. "Oh! _There _it is!" she proclaimed, getting up from the bench and pulling out a sheet of parchment. It looked old, yellowish, and familiar. Not the typical neat, white rectangles with blue and red lines most muggles used. He stared up at her as her sapphire eyes flickered over where it pinched between two of her fingers.

"What's your name?" he asked quite suddenly.

She was just about prepared to turn her shoulders away from him when his question caught her attention. A broader smile broke out as an apology struck past her gaze. "I'm afraid that's none of your business." A short laugh, she tugged the strap of her purse on her shoulder and headed off.

[ I'll make it my business]

He let her walk on, however, as his eyes didn't leave her back. When they left her, he got up from his seat only to stumble shortly. Two quick breaths, he shot another look in her distance image crossing a street. _Of course_, he thought as he found her heading to the street that led to the Leaky Cauldron.

Of course, she would be a witch.

How on earth did she not recognize him, though? Vice versa, as well.

He usually made note to know every face he should avoid.


	3. Ch 3: Through a Raven's Eyes

[ Astoria ]

"-Completely..._unnecessary._"

Her words were distinct, each one conveying her bitterness towards the stranger. Not only was she stressed enough with what was to come tomorrow, but now she had..._HIM _on her mind on top of it. Some encounters tend to leave one flustered to a degree and with that blond earlier, her bloodstream seemed to race.

Since she walked into Diagon Alley, her footwork corresponded more with her thoughts than her motive. She would stop, half turn in the direction she could only merely guess that stranger was, and glare. A frigid blizzard swarmed in the pit of her stomach as her cheeks remained flushed. Sure, sure, she had _worse_ encounters; much worse, or at least familiar. Having a sister like Daphne could definitely teach her there were people in this world that were outwardly infuriating for the hell of being so.

Nevertheless, that man was different back there compared to the blonde, older sibling of hers. It was obvious he did not have the privilege of a good nights sleep, evidence being the bags under his red-tinted eyes. Even the way he sat appeared as tense as someone who slept on concrete daily. That thought cooled her down a couple degrees. Instead of calling him out or having fantasies of grabbing his shirt and throwing him to the ground...or perhaps a nice little hex...she began feeling pity instead.

Perhaps she should have addressed his state, asked what was wrong…

She probably would never see that toxic blond again.

He was just another muggle, no?

Probably was up drinking or something of the sort.

There were so many probabilities and with no resolutions.

It bugged her!

It was too late now, far too late, indeed.

Oh, another regret to add to her list that might have kept her up at night. Luckily her own bags were covered by some simple makeup that would never give her away. Heart pounding softly in her chest, she made her way through the busy crowd. She attempted to dodge those around her but every now and then a chip of a pedestrian would send her shoulder back. Apologizes that weren't necessary would shot out of her lips as she pinched on tightly to that paper of hers. There were two things on it: a destination and schedule she fancied re-reading every hour.

Tomorrow was a big day.

Astoria Greengrass attempted to distract herself from the thoughts that made butterflies go crazy inside...she might just make herself ill. Tomorrow was the first day of her internship at St. Mungos as a Healer. A smirk traced her lips as she quickly dodged into a store whose glass display showed vials, a brewing potion, and colorful jars. The aroma of strong plants and faintly of...smoke?

"Hello?!" She called out, slipping the piece of paper into her pocket.

Her voice rang across the room. Just as the wooden door swung behind her, closing off the new light that poured in, she thought she just might be alone. In this store, there wasn't anyone to be seen. The only noise came from blubbering sounds in the back and the occasional breeze against some plants. Suddenly a slightly heavy man came around the corner. He was hastily brushing the front of his nice, white robes with dragon-skinned gloves, leaving dusty streaks in their wake. His cresent-shaped glasses were fogged up to a degree that contrasted a perfected dark beard that angled around his mouth.

"Father...?" She started in a slightly amused matter, noting the edgy state he appeared to be in.

Mr. Greengrass appeared completely done with his day, looking his daughter in pure exasperation. Worry lines deepened. "This utter...god-forsaken _nit-wit…!_" he began bitterly.

Before he could elaborate a loud _CLANGGGG! _broke out. Astoria quietly staggered back with a leaping heart at the sound of an apparently heavy cauldron hitting the floor. It rung and rung _and rung_ as she made owl-eyed at the corner of the dim-lit hall, dark eyebrows high on her forehead.

"I'm quite alright! Don't worry about me!" Came another male's voice whose pitch might have been louder than even hers. "Just a-" _and then came down another cauldron. _The Greengrasses winced in unison.

Unsure whether or not to charge around her father to help the man, she felt heat crawl up her neck. A deep breath, she adjusted herself. "Anyway..." Turning to her father, her shoulders elevating as a grin pulled up the corners of her mouth. "Guess who's internship is tomorrow...?" Excitement brightening her eyes.

"Oh, yes, yes." Nodding and desperately trying to ignore the mutterings and small sounds coming around the corner, his hand rubbed the side of his square jaw "Well, you ought to be excited." She was until he sucked in another breath. "Just remember. You have to be responsible. No slacking off. Stay sharp, stay on your feet. Don't fall behind and make me proud. Your sister is choosing the easy route and since you passed that up...wanting to-"

"I don't want to be Daphne." she stated, forcing a smile now.

"Point is," he started again. "I don't want you neglecting your responsibilities like some of _my _employees have. Such as...running down here and getting potion ingredients." his voice grew more gruff as a fire sparked in his similar blue eyes. "A _simple _task that I could have _passed on_ if they weren't so bloody careless!"

Dark eyebrows heightened on her head as her shoulders dropped. "I thought you said you had this appointment."

"Well, yes. Nevertheless, with my high position, I shouldn't have to step foot in here. I did not work so long to go to stage one all over. Especially with fools such as-"

**CLANG.**

"_Ohhh-! MERLIN'S POLKA-DOTTED SHORTS!" _

Mr. Greengrass simply gestured out a hand in the general direction of the voice. Glaring then, he took a step from his daughter. "Do you understand? I shouldn't be here. Dealing with this nonsense! My apprentice was supposed to be here and they decided to slack off, saying they were busy!" Fury flashed across his eyes before he pursed his lips and shook his head. "Just have some dragon scales and an export coming along... I'll live, I'll live.." he shook his head, paused, and grew more soft in the face. "I'll see you at home, yes?"

Astoria was growing distracted by the room as a slow nod answered him. The older man then left. She was alone. With a soft sigh, she decided she would stall meeting him at the Greengrass Manor. Attempt to at least.

A sigh left her before she moved. She had probably been in this very shop a thousand and one times as a little girl. All the other times, she had been with her mother, holding tightly onto her hand as though one of the plants would reach out and grab her. One time, they did. That caused Daphne and her to screech so loud, they could have made a Mandrake cringe. Those plants hung from the ceiling, laid in large clay pots on the floor, and she made note to keep her distance. Little vials of liquid jewels hung from the ceiling and when a draft from an open window came, they clung and created music. Rows and rows of shelves also displayed everything from skulls to wings to horns….everything a witch or wizard would identify one way or another and a muggle would just _gawk _at. It was quite a unique Potioneer-based shop. It sparked her interest but she knew if her father wasn't so built up on belittling the man whose shift it was, he would have gone into a rant about every little thing-like he always did. It was nice just being by herself, though.

After a couple minutes of exploring and making sure a clumsy, mysterious man didn't spontaneously set the shop on fire with her father nearby, a ring of a bell announced her exit.

Once the door was open, however, she found it to be drizzling outside. The crowd seemed to be in a more rush, knowing the downpour was threatening to come now. Astoria pulled her jacket close, making sure the folds were together so unpermitted water wouldn't go down her shirt. As she walked on, making a bee-line to the Leaky Cauldron, the rain began to come down heavier to a point it began to loudly thump against the streets.

Then again, she thought as she pulled to a stop. Rain continued to fall down on her, splattering on her jacket, her dark hair, and sky-dive off her cheekbones. Heart still fluttering as it had been all day, she glanced around her grey surroundings. That's what they were. Grey. It was not foggy but the sight around her began to blur together. People shuffled around, wanting to stay dry desperately and leave this typical storm behind. It's England, you would assume they would adjust but no. Even her, standing there progressively getting soaked...wanted to leave. She winced whenever a splash would occur on her face and she would wipe her face when the rain threatened to get in her eyes. Right then, however, she allowed herself to stand still. Just for a second.

There were worse things than a little rain, after all.

A cold home, for example, that was much more irritating, much more uncomfortable than a typical drizzle. A bitter sister may be waiting...other than that, it was empty. Paranoia sat uneasy with her, wondering whether or not her home was even safe. Why would it be? How did her father and sister, Daphne, just turn a blind eye as to what took place there two years ago. They pretended everything was normal, that moving on was easy so long as he locked your emotions other than irritation inside. Just lock them away...throw away the key. That was the procedure, no?

Graduating this year was for the better, nevertheless. After all, there were was lurking horrors there as well. It used to feel secure though...but it was proven that even the thickest walls could crumble down. There was light in her past, though. Warmth provided from empathetic friends in the Ravenclaw tower. The scenery calmed her as well. Nothing compared to looking out of that high tower and seeing all the beautiful surroundings...the castle...the grounds..the forest...the lake...not to mention the sky at night, a navy blue blanket cast above, dotted with infinite white specks. Her heart ached at the thought that picture would be no more than a memory.

The rain was drawing on and her patience wore out. She needed to stop standing there before she caught a cold. The Leaky Cauldron was more likely full... So, home it was. If you could call it a 'home' anymore, it did not suit that name for her.

It was a bitter thought but the rain motivated the idea she needed to get out.

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**author's note:**

**hello! Thanks for reading! I'd love feedback :) So there's a box thing down there if you're interested. A writer always loves ****criticism or even a funny word or smashings on a keyboard!**

**The next chapter will be about the job and maybe there's more connections than you think!**


	4. ch 4 Meeting of the New Order

**Thank you, once again for reading! **

**In case you weren't aware, I changed the last bit to the last chapter. You might want to read that quickly. Before, Astoria was heading home. Now she's headed towards the Grimmauld Place. She's a lot more different than Daphne. I'm still researching and seeing what I can do with this story and it's great fun. Not sure I can get away with making it so she was a member of the DA, but who knows? She's an original character and there's a lot I can do with her background. Now, this chapter is about the Order of the Phoenix. **

**Enjoy!**

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[ Hermione]

Nervous fingers drummed against the hard table. Arms crossed, dark brown eyes flickered across the room. One by one, she made note of who gathered around the long oak table. Today, they would be minus one. Harry.

Hermione Granger squirmed slightly in her seat when she found, once again, how few turned up. There were still a handful of adults but despite how some still managed to survive and more recruits showed up…it didn't make up for the fact that they lost so much. It felt empty, a void that could not be filled. Perhaps this is how many felt about Harry's Parents when they died. The meetings felt off, all the little characteristics of the fallen soldiers in the room: Mad-Eyes grumbles and the paranoia his X-ray eye catching anything off; Lupin's calm demeanor that helped settle anxiety; Tonk's up-beat movements and transforming her features for entertainment; Sirius's grin and remembrance; Fred….well it just felt like a living nightmare seeing him not beside his twin. It was a world where everything felt off. The one motive towards the meetings was ironically those absences.

Pursing her lips and occasionally glancing at Ron who lowered himself beside his father to speak to him in a hushed matter, she kept those thoughts to herself. What was the point of even speaking them outloud? Everyone was probably thinking it, even after all this time. Right now, she needed to be strong. After all, she was working on a reputation here. She was supposed to be strong. Not a little girl. Oh, yes. She had the title 'Brightest Witch of Her Age' but that wasn't a title that would let her get pretentious. It was doubtful she was _that _bright. Those tapping of her fingers stopped when Molly cleared her throat, causing an apology to slip out. She halted them as her hands went to lace on top of her pencil-skirt. Everyone seemed in casual robes but her. She didn't think she had time to change from the Ministry. Even her bushy hair was pinned up at the back of her head.

Another head count showed who was missing-McGonagall, Kingsley, and a handful others. The first two were understandable. McGonagall was the new Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She couldn't just up and out when she wanted to. She often mentioned the rivalry at Hogwarts, the breaking of security, and classes being off schedule due to some classrooms not being completely repaired. Kingsley took the position as the new Minister of Magic. Enough said there. As for the others… perhaps they didn't feel up to joining the order after all. Perhaps they were late. It didn't stop her anxiety, wanting the room to come to order already.

A door opened down the hall and she leaped up, arms swinging to her sides. With wide eyes, she relaxed when she found it was just Astoria Greengrass, the recent Ravenclaw graduate. An apologetic smile came and helped Hermione offer a simple one back. The girl was brushing her damp, dark hair from the rain, trying to be presentable. When she walked in, she appeared to attempt to make herself as small as possible for the moment. After all, she was late.

Hermione bit down her lip slightly and glanced to where Neville Longbottom stood by the door. Catching his gaze, she lifted an eyebrow. Neville was the one who invited her. He responded with a brief grin before turning to the witch to catch her up with the fact she hadn't missed anything so far.

One more left.

Theodore Nott.

Was he a no-show? Even after he helped the Order of the Phoenix so much? After he basically caused this meeting to happen with his tracking of DeathEaters?

"-What if he's just misleading us? Taking us as fools?" Came a whisper beside her, making her neck strain as though he had read her mind. She turned her head to meet Seamus Finnigan's eyes. He had joined the seat beside her. Harry, Ron, him, and her were the only ones who knew of Theodore Nott's secret allegiance. It had to be a secret. Nott wanted the information as hushed as possible so there was less of a chance eyes would begin to make note of him. Last thing he needed was other members to knock down his door and shake him till he gave them the answer they wanted. She understood this. To an extent. Still, the man was a son of a Death Eater. In fact, he was son to an extremely loyal Death Eater according to Harry. Why would it not be nerve wrecking? Doubtful the information might just be a trap.

"What if he's not?" Hermione answered back. "Honestly, have a bit more of faith in people. If we don't, we're no better than…well…" She couldn't think of a way to end that sentence.

The door to the room closed, locking itself in place by Neville. This announced the start of the meeting. No one would be allowed to enter now. If Nott was a no-show, this confirmed it.

Ron slapped his father on the back before gathering himself back up to his tall stature. Hermione caught his gaze and he offered a weak smile. He was nervous about releasing their information. Surely, it would cause uneasiness through the members. They needed to be aware though. No more ignorance. The paper with Theodore Nott's handwritting was held between two of his freckled fingers as he shifted his weight foot to foot. The murmuring went to a slow silence as one by one, they looked over. Usually Kingsley led the meetings. If not him, someone much older than a twenty year old whose hair was mused in the back from nervous scratching.

Hermione insisted on biting her lip briefly before her hands found each other under the table. She crossed her fingers, hoping he wouldn't freeze up. "Ron." She said, hoping to wake him up. He shot her a brief look and she could almost hear him say '_I got this, Hermione._'

"Look…" he started, though all eyes were on him. He slapped the paper back and forth on one of his hands. "We've been given knowledge that Death Eaters are back to being active."

The room broke out in either disbelief or "_Oh, of course!" _remarks to be clear it wasn't a surprise at all to them. Hermione wished they would just shut it and listen. They had news to bring and people were busying themselves by making an impression. Most were, anyway. She was about to make note which people weren't behaving when Ron continued to speak.

"We have a trail they appear to be making towards London. They're coming from the North." He continued and he furrowed ginger brows.

"OH? And how do you recon that?" came someone to Hermione's left. She shot them a glare and noted she had never seen them at the meeting. She was already nervous for Ron talking. He had a quick temper and usually it was Harry who did public speaking. Ron was almost out of his element this past week and she secretly was waiting for him to just blurt everything out.

"We have a source." She said quickly. "Harry trusts it and it seems highly resourceful."

"It?" George Weasley spoke up, eyes narrowing. That jolly spark was gone from his eyes. It had been like that since his twin, Fred, was killed in the war. Hermione knew he forced a smile on his face, that Ron helped him with the Joke Shop he was so stubborn to keep running. She guessed he kept it running as a living memory of Fred. It broke her heart. "_It?_" he repeated. "Is that a substitute for _he _or _she _or are you finding this information on the side of the street? Highly _resourceful, _that would be."

"Point is." This time it was Neville Longbottom who spoke up. Funny, years ago, he used to be silent or stutter over his words. The war changed that. In fact, he grew into a leader in Hermione's eyes. Even if his training was going towards being a Herbology teacher. Good for him, really. "We've been predicting another attack. Just listen, will you? It's better to know something rather than nothing at all." He nodded, nervously shifting his crossed arms.

There were murmurs of agreement. They would rather a possibility than living in total ignorance. However, some still narrowed their eyes and pursed their lips in stubbornness. It felt like Dumbledore's Army all over again. In fact, there was a lot of members from the order there, making up the chairs of those who didn't make it. There was still old members who were looking skeptic of such young people growing into leaders. Then again, weren't they the same age when they found the Order of the Phoenix all those years ago?

Ron continued on, naming the locations where deaths by the Killing Curse have been gathered. The room fell into silence and as the hours ticked on by, there was soon a piece of parchment on the table. Assigning positions for look out was a hassle and there were hesitations. Especially from the new comers who weren't exactly prepared as to what this meeting was about. To be hit with the reality of a threat caused shaky hands and frowns. Everyone in the room was affected by the war. Everyone in this room had lost family and friends to Death Eaters. Why would fear not swim in them? When it was all said and done, Hermione caught Ron's eye before moving towards him.

"Do you know when Harry will get back?" she asked, worry crossing her features.

A shrug was her answer followed by, "Who knows? Tomorrow? A week? We can't exactly owl him, that's certain."

"I don't like it. I feel like we need to stick together. He's off on an Auror mission and we're here." She paused, "Do you think he's okay?"

"Hermione…"Ron held her upper arm, bowing down to her so he could catch her eyes properly. "He's sort of had his experience with Dark Wizards, believe it or not."

She glared back. "He wasn't _alone _though."

"He's not alone now." He countered his attempt at a grin faltering.

Shaking her head, she left the room while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley helped organize everyone. Now in the hallway, the conversation behind her turned into white noise. Ron, of course, followed and closed the door behind him. "I can't believe you some times."

"Stop getting your knickers in a twist. _God._"

"Oh? I'm _sorry._ Am I not supposed to worry about _our _best friend?"

"No, Hermione. I want you to be completely apathetic towards him! Of course it's okay to be worried! You're acting like his _mother_, though. He'll be fine. Bloody _hell._"

Her cheeks reddened as her eyebrows knitted together. "I am _not _acting like his…._mother, _Ronald! I'm….acting like a concerned friend. Much more than you are acting like. You're acting like you're fine with your best friend gone. I see you pacing though, checking the door-! You're worried too!"

"You're obsessed, though! It's all you can talk about this week. Can you just focus around your surroundings? Harry would want you to not obsess about his safety! We're talking about Death Eaters heading this way and you're thinking about a mission a Head Auror made sure he was ready for. He's in a group. He can also take care of himself."

Hermione's hands flew up beside her face, as though she contemplated on strangling the taller man. With a huff of a breath, a loud "_Gah!_" finished her argument before she began to turn to head up the stairs.

"Hermione…" Ron's feet caught up with her with small effort as he caught onto her wrist.

She didn't even know where she was planning on going. She didn't have a room here. Everything upstairs was filled with dust and rotten memories. Even the portraits whose curtains covered up muttered '_mudblood. Filth. Freakish creature daring to speak in the house of Black!'_. Her eyes showed signs of tears as she stopped and turned to him. With wobbly knees she slowly stepped back down. In another time, she would have been slightly humored that being on the last step in her heels allowed her to be the same height as Ron. Now, she was just fighting not to have a melt down.

"'Mione…" he said, tone softer as he found his mistake was giving into her shouting. "He's going to be fine. He's going to come back and tell us all about his mission and what he's found. Then, he'll groan about you worrying. We'll end up laughing and you can start beating us until we're all having a jolly good time, yea?" The grin on his face made her choke out a short laugh, visioning that very event. With a sigh that made her shoulders go down a fraction, she nodded. Licking her lips, she looked down at their feet before meeting his tired, stressed eyes, saying, "Yeah, I suppose that's accurate."

As she met his blue eyes, a fluttering feeling passed through her. What were they now? They tried dating until she told them to take it slow. After all, life and death situations caused feelings to rush. Horrid excuse but she was glad. Until the nights seemed dark and she found herself daydreaming about him at her side, muttering for her to just go to sleep. She needed that.

As she looked at him now, it seemed as though he was waiting for something. If she even registered she was moving closer, it immediately stopped when the door flew open and out came members of the Order. Clearing her throat, she stepped the rest of the way down, brushing her hand down the warmth of his cloak's sleeve as she passed. Then came time she had to talk to the leaving members quickly before heading off to the center room. As she was about to go through the doorway, the youngest Greengrass slipped passed her with a ducked head.

"How did you feel about the meeting?" Hermione quickly asked the newest member, catching her before she could slip away.

Astoria stopped, turned, and caught her intelligent gaze. "I don't think there is a word for it." She admitted after a second, sounding exasperated from apparent emotions. "I…I just need to wrap my head around it all. I'm glad I came though. It's a lot to soak in. I didn't know what I was expecting. This news…it's just a slap of reality, I suppose." Uneasiness caused her to shift under Hermione's gaze. The Gryffindor could understand completely, but with all the events, she still wondered if she could trust the girl. She knew her so vaguely, after all.

"Overwhelming, huh?" came another female voice. Hermione checked over her shoulder to find Ginny Weasley coming out the door next. She was fastening the laces of her rain cloak. She offered Astoria a skeptic glance over. "Do you think you'll stick around?"

The Ravenclaw answered carefully, blue eyes flashing when she knew she was being put under a microscope right then. "I hope to."

"Good answer." The ginger girl grinned widely. The smile didn't reach her eyes. "Well, I need to put my feet up. Don't want to get fatigued. Hell's making an unwelcome entrance and I'm juggling Quidditch matches on top of it." She gave them a mocking thumbs-up. Ginny was strong. She was also worried. "Hope coach doesn't mind the inconvenience." She nearly sighed, brown eyes brushing across the room-probably to resist rolling immaturely as she had predicted. Before Hermione could open her mouth to comment, her eyes locked on something and she staggered forward, "HEY! Neville-wait-! Don't open that-!" She flew away from them and tugged Neville Longbottom away from a curious cabinet. They couldn't hear why exactly he shouldn't open the cabinet but with her hushed whisper, animated expression, and Neville's widened eyes…it wasn't anything good.

"This house has a boggart problem. That's what it probably is." Hermione said to Astoria, eyes still on her friends.

"My house had a boggart in the basement for a while. No one was kind enough to give me a heads up." She replied, a bitter tone lacing through it. As the Gryffindor's eyes went on her, she wondered what the girl's boggart could have possibly formed into. She didn't have the nerve or the time to ask because she began to slip away with a muttered farewell.

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**Reviews would be excellent!**

**It's a work in progress so if you spot anything, that would be amazing. **

**I'm also in need of a Beta! (Editor) **

**Thank you :)**


	5. ch 5 Mungos and Mandrakes

**author's note: For those keeping up with this story, thank you so much! I'm a bit insecure about my writing and hope I'm not being boring. However, things will be speeding up soon! Thank you! **

** VeronicaRiddle chapter 4 . Mar 9- Canon pairings[ e.g.: Ron/Hermione, Draco/Astoria specifically ?) because I'm attempting to fill in the gap from the Battle of Hogwarts to 19 years later. Ships won't be a priority, though. They're side dishes to the story :) In the prologue, it says the story is taking place two years AFTER the Second Wizardry War. So there you go sweetheart. Also thank you!**

** foolondahill17 -thank you! That means a lot and hopefully you do keep up with it! (i hope)**

** carrymehome -thank you!**

* * *

[ Astoria ]

[ GREENGRASS MANOR ]

When is a door not a door?

-When it's ajar.

In the middle of the night, light beams in a long line over the curve of her body under her covers. Holding her breath and eyeing the light as pretended to be in a deep sleep. There was a pause before the door clicked back into place darkness caused her to relax. Last thing she needed was someone checking up on her. She did not want to talk. Instead, she stared out her window where emerald leaves swayed and the stars poked through where they could. Her owl, Zeus, was perched in a white bird cage in the corner, head ducked under his wing. On the side table was a piece of parchment, her wand, and a candle whose ghost swirled upwards. How the intruder of her room had not noted it was only recently blown out, she hadn't the faintest.

The shelves that edged around her room, containing rows of leather-bound books reminded her she had a blissful distraction. Nevertheless, she remained in the warmth of her covers. Her hands were shaking beside her head and she helplessly watched them. She was supposed to be a coming-of-an-adult now. Eighteen years old wasn't exactly an adult but she felt time had found other ways to age her other than a calendar. Now the reason behind stressing was simple enough. Not only did she have a trainee job tomorrow but on top of it, there was an attack coming she was ignorant to until today. She was glad. Living may be easy with eyes closed but ignorance is a trap, used to the advantage of the enemy. She owed Neville Longbottom for getting her on the inside. It was a bit foggy how it all began but she knew it paid off to not be rude to any of his friends.

The night whispered a secret in her ear and the moment she turned to hear it better, her eyes grew heavy, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

When she reopened her eyes, the dream that send her heart frantic was forgotten. She put her hand against her chest to feel the thundering in her chest. Blinking rapidly, she wondered if she managed to die in her sleep. The bright light pouring in wasn't new but compared to the darkness, it truly was something. The sound of her sucking in a breath came and she held it. She counted to five and slowly let it out before swiping her hand through her hair. "Just a dream…" she muttered and swung her legs to the side of her bed.

Today was the first day of her training at St. Mungos. She needed to get a proper head on her shoulders.

* * *

[ ST. MUNGOS ]

Her wandering thoughts were carried away when a blonde spoke, her voice a tone higher due to excitement and a grin in her lips. "—hopefully they'll take us to the first floor."

_Hopefully not, _Astoria thought as her gaze remained in front, her fingers rolling over each other nervously.

They were waiting for their respective mentors in a room far away from the reception at St. Mungos. Earlier, they were given pink robes to wear along with a lanyard and nametag. This was to prevent mix up with the Healers wearing lime green robes with a sign of a bone and a wand crossed on it. There was two in front of their little huddle of Healers-to-be, backs away as they seemed to be negotiating.

"In the last week of traineeship, maybe, but not in your first day," Astoria retorted softly to the girl after a pause, some of others nodding in agreement followed by quiet murmurs. It was just unthinkable, to her, to put someone who knew just as little as them in the most dangerous ward.

In their wait, her blue eyes flashed over to where the directory was pinned on the wall. As she read the floor guide, she tuned out the hollers going on all around her. So far, she had seen a man whose shoes were jinxed to eat his feet, a woman whose hat was progressively strinking her head, and three dragon pox cases. Of course, she wasn't ignorant to this. In fact, it was a slow day in comparison to those times she had visited her father who was in the basement with the rest of the Potioneers.

_Ground Floor….….ARTIFACT ACCIDENTS, _

_(Cauldron explosions, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc.)_

_First Floor…..…..…CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES_

_(bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.)_

_Second Floor…..…MAGICAL BUGS_

_(contagious maladies, e.g. dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus)_

_Third Floor…...POTION AND PLANT POISONING _

_(Rashes, regurgitatuin, uncomfortable giggling, etc.)_

_Fourth Floor…SPELL DAMAGE_

_(Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms, etc.)_

_Fifth Floor…..VISTORS TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP_

"-You'll be divided into groups of three." then came the voice of her instructor so she turned her attention their way, "It will be consisting of two trainees and one Healer. He or she will be your mentor throughout this day. You will visit different wards from different floor throughout this traineeship, and you may not always get to be paired with the same trainee or Healer, hence why you'll need to depend only on yourself to learn everything you'll be taught here." They were addressed by an elegant man who was old enough to be Astoria's father, and the trainees could only nod when he finished. "We'll go from eight to twelve before we have our lunch break. Then we'll switch around. Any questions?"

This was Astoria's time to shine or to prove she was better somewhere else. This was it.

Their names were individually called, and the brunette was paired with another brunette, the two of them lead outside the room by a woman Astoria remembered was a Hufflepuff one year older than her Daphne. Together, they stood around for a while and Astoria learned the other girl's last name to be Tate. As her eyes flickered towards the others be assigned to their Healers and leaving the room, she began to grow antsy about her own predicament. Her mouth shaped to ask one of the 'W' questions (_Where is our Healers? What's going on? When are they going to give us something to do? Who is in charge?_). However, around a corner came a familiar looking brunet, looking like the last thing he wanted to do was walk towards them. Not exactly invited. With a deep breath, he forced a tired grin and acknowledged the two of them.

"Miss Tate…" he grinned with a nod before turning to her. "and..Miss _Greengrass?_" a short laugh followed as he read their name tags. He met her eyes. "Ha. I know your sister. Daphne, yes? She and I were friends back in the good ol' Hogwarts days." He showed them his own badge. "Theodore Nott. You can call me Mr. Nott to boost my ego." With that, he let it fall back to his chest before he turned on his heel. "Follow me, ladies."

Astoria gave the other girl a look before following behind him. They went into an elevator and she was a bit surprised when she found him pressing the down button. He explained how their goal was to watch and observe today. Also how he was last minute assigned to the two of them, how he didn't expect him, and how he had other places to be. Then, when the metal doors opened, he led them out and explained how they would be assigned to two small parts of the hospital where others were obligated to guide them. Astoria's stomach twisted in anticipation, wondering why it was her that got stuck with this dung-for-brains.

"Other places to be?" she echoed him from minutes prior, dark eyebrow quirking up. He just gave her a look that made her almost wish she had not questioned him. "Like what, exactly?"

"My business and you two won't be able to follow me where I'm going." He responded, a cold edge to his tone before a wicked, forced grin was tossed her way. He assigned Tate to one room where a plump woman assigned her large donut-like headphones before she was fully allowed to go in the room.

As she followed behind the man in front of her, her heart raced, wondering where she should end up. Finally, she confirmed her theory. "This is the Potioneer floor, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"My father works down here. He's Head Potioneer." She added, crossing her arms lightly, shooting daggers at his back.

"Oh? Well, why don't you go in that field then?" He glanced over his shoulder before deciding to open an oak door to her. She couldn't tell if he was being heavily sarcastic or not. She then decided he probably he didn't care what she thought either way

"I wanted to be a _Healer _not a Potioneer. Why aren't _you _down here?" She retorted, eyeing him and doing her best to keep her temper down. She was insulted. This was her day and she was being treated like a dog right then.

"Am I not down here now?" He smirked as he watched her reluctantly enter a dimly lit room. The wave of strong scents breezed towards her. Inside, the floors were white and the walls reminded her of coal. Along the walls were individual cauldrons on little tables. In front of them were three rows of tables with ingredients of all sorts-horns, leafs, long plants, dices of substances, and powders. Definitely a Potioneer's paradise. Back in school, she excelled in Potions. However, her passion went into charms. "Now, this will be quick. There's a Potioneer in here to help you. Any questions?"

_What the bloody hell am I supposed to do here?_

Nothing left her lips as she just stared, wondering if he was for real.

"Good." He replied on beat. He flashed a grin before he slipped back out the door to do Merlin-knows-what. As the door shut behind him, she took one step towards him. Heart racing, her ears picked up bubbling sounds from the cauldrons and the brewing smell was invasive around her. "_Prat._" She spat out.

In the corner, there was a bright light hovering over plants to substitute sunlight outside. There was a short, wide window on the top of the coal-like wall. If it weren't for magic, she would have questioned how it was even possible to have one on a bottom floor. It probably was one that was impossible to leave but allowed smoke to travel to other locations that would make sense to muggles.

In the back, she found a doorway and what appeared to be shelves of Potion ingredients. With a deep breath, she gathered the nerve to move towards it. There was definitely a light omitting from there, after all. Suppose a Potioneer was in here. As she walked in, she found just that. However, their head was in the folds of their arms and their face was turned away from her.

"Hello?" she piped up to the man taking an apparent nap.

He shifted and a slow groan left their lips, "Get lost…I'm busy." Their hand came up to rub the top of their head.

"Well, I'm supposed to be busy. Mr. Nott directed me here-"

"_Theo did what now?_" The blond man straightened up and rubbed their hand down a pointed face. In the orange light provided by the candle, it directed ominous shadows all across his features. He turned, blinked at her, and simultaneously, their eyes widened at each other in belated recognition. Even with the poor light, she knew him.

"**You." **

Straightening up frantically, the wizard scooted his chair back and gaped at her, gesturing a hand towards her. "You—how did you-"

"I'm a trainee here! What are you-"

"I work here obviously!"

"It really shows with you napping on the job!"

"I wasn't _napping!_" he protested, fear clear across silver irises. "_Jesus._ Get out-"

"No.."

"No? I'm sorry, did it sound like an option?" He responded bitterly, appearing like he wanted to grab the nearest object and pelt it at her. Fortunately for her, nothing seemed worthy of throwing. "Are you just going to stand there gaping at me like a fish or what?"

She had not become aware of her expression until he had oh-so-kindly said that. Instantly, her mouth shut as blush flowered on her cheeks. "I was assigned her. I didn't just waltz in here to bother you."

_Though it seemed like you needed to wake up, really._

A moment of silence passed through them and the bastard finally found his balance as he stood up. They stared at each other, studying each other's faces. Her heart was pounding and though he was startled, he seemed to be able to control his features more easily. In fact, he nonchalantly decided to run cold and calculating eyes over her.

"Did you say Theo sent you?"

_Did you say Theo sent you? _, she mimicked in her mind childishly. Narrowing her eyes, she gave him a response that lacked the inner tone she used, "Sort of abandoned me here, actually."

Her ears were listening for the sound of a savior. Someone to come along-anyone, really-to save her from this git in front of her. The one who lacked manners of any kind and made her feel like if he could, he could pierce her with that silver state. On side note, she was thankful she couldn't hear her frantic heart racing in her chest which her arms now crossed over. She studied him right back, resisting giving him a belittling look in return, seeing as she was growing annoyed about that. The smug look that was growing on his features made it fairly obvious he knew that to.

"Do you know who I am?" he abruptly asked, a smirk growing on a face whose eyes remained emotionless.

Naturally, her eyes finally flashed down to a name card he had. "Dra-" she started but he flipped it over. Her own smirk crawled up her lips as she met his eyes. "No. You're familiar, though."

"I should be." He replied coolly. "Astoria." He added, catching her name card as a light sparked in his eyes. It was as though this information was significant to him. She would have told him her name if he asked.

"What's that?" The brunette asked, pointing to a tray filled with a dozen clay plots containing plants. A piece of parchment laid before it with a list written on it. Probably work he was putting off.

"Mandrakes." He responded, eyes fixated on her.

_Mandrakes?_ That made sense. The Hufflepuff entered a room next to this one where she was given headphones. She was probably dealing with those buggers. Now Astoria grew thankful she was assigned here. It wasn't often she got the bigger end of the stick. Mandrakes were plants which has a root that looks like a human (like a baby when the plant is young, but maturing as the plant grows). When mature, its cry can be fatal to any person who hears it. The European Mandrake plant a part of the Nightshade family that has been used since ancient times as a medicinal plant. It contains hyoscyamine, scopolamine, and mandragorin. Medically, it has been used as a pain killer and a sedative. An overdose, though, can be fatal. Now, she guessed it was their leaves being used for potions. In the ancient times, it was used for surgery. It made sense why they were here. They still made her skin crawl.

The Potioneer seemed a bit more comfortable with the change of conversation. It wasn't about him, after all. He took a step further and put a pale hand on the back of the chair. "I don't recommend touching them if you don't want your finger being bit off as you go deaf from their screams." He added.

"Who would be dense enough to put their finger near their mouths?" She asked, furrowing her brows.

When he didn't answer, she grinned to herself.

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**Once again, thank you for reading! Reviews are a blessing! If anything made you laugh, if you want to predict what's going to happen, you're curious about something, if you see an error, or/and any critic-that would be wonderful! I want to know what I'm doing right or wrong.**

**Next chapter is Draco's point of view! I'm excited!**


	6. ch 6 Ignis Plantate

[Draco]

Well, of course he passed out. Though he didn't necessarily make a habit out of it, it happened anyways. Sleep dawned on him impending, sneaky bastard. When he wished for it at night, he awoke in a cold sweat. At work, it came and swept him from his conscious state. Thus far, he had been fairly good at waking up the second before someone found him. His coworkers had a certain step he memorized. Loud, obnoxious, and frantic. So when this girl came over, of course he didn't wake up to her light, quiet steps. It wasn't til she spoke when his heart leapt from his chest. If he hadn't been so bloody tired, she would have received a physical object thrown at her rather than just grumbles.

Still gaining consciousness, he was blinking more than ordinary as he felt a possible red mark fading from where his pale face had seated on his arm. Luckily there was poor light in this room or else it would have been obvious. Last thing he needed was embarrassing himself further.

Staring at her, his eyes flickered over her face, trying to refresh how he had seen her a day ago. She used to be a muggle to him and now she was standing there before him like a dream. That brought up the question whether or not it was, in fact, a dream. She already seemed a bit unreal. She must have repressed the information on him or she was just brilliant at acting like she didn't know who he was. Should he avoid informing her or should he just get it over with so she could turn on her heel and leave already? Nevertheless, Theodore Nott managed to dump her off with him.

This was preposterous. Him? A _mentor?_ Unbelievable. It made as much sense as Voldemort buying shampoo.

As she managed to render him speechless with her retort, he crossed his arms. Of course he knew it was _imbecilic _to stick his bloody finger near their mouth. Second year, it seemed like good sport. He learned quickly when it nearly took off said finger with its disgusting mouth.

Moving his cold gaze from the plants to the girl-_Astoria_-he found her red-tinted lips to be curved up in a cheeky grin. He narrowed his eyes in response but before he could make up some magnificently brilliant lie, she beat him.

"You're a Potioneer. What are you doing with mandrakes in the back room? Shouldn't you be making potions or at least something more…_interesting?_"

"_More interesting_," He repeated, pulling his lips back into that wicked smile of his. In the past, his lips were found of a trademark smirk. Now it seemed to evolve into something else entirely. Arrogance was a trick and mastering it required to fool everyone, even yourself. Leaning forward a hair, a blond eyebrow quirked. "Are you telling me you don't think this is interesting? Dear _Astoria, _this is the highlight of my day. I'm actually insulted right now you mock my work."

The brunette was caught in a two second trap, gaping at him in disbelief, rendering whether or not he was serious. "If it was so interesting, why did you fall asleep? Or were you just dreaming about your work?"

"I tend to brag I can do my work in my sleep so naturally I was just proving it."

"Oh, right. Of course." She grinned, nodding sarcastically as though she was buying a word of what he was saying. As he was about to speak again, she suddenly lifted up her hand as though to stop the traffic of that conversation. "Listen. As much as I _fancy_ talking about this topic, can we get to something more important so I'm not completely wasting my time?" Her dark eyebrows fixed together as her forehead creased in her own self-worry. A huff of a breath left her mouth before she glanced from the Mandrakes to all the oddities that the room held on wooden shelves. Meeting his eyes there was a lingering '_well? Are you going to help me or what?' _.

He contemplated it. If it wasn't for the fact he knew what it was like to be in her shoes, he probably wouldn't have cared. Getting to where he was now took more effort than any Potioneer before him. Deatheaters were not fond company and they were being sent away from most working establishments. A hospital was meant to be safe and all the safe required heavy background checks. Seeing as his criminal record could go over a foot of paper, he shouldn't be standing there. He managed to pull strings, and much to the popular belief, it wasn't through bribery. Just the opposite, really. It took work. Hell knows if it wasn't for Mr. Greengrass, his own mentor, it would have been nearly impossible to earn redemption.

"I don't mind putting this off. It's not life or death." He said before brushing past her and going around a shelf that stretched to the ceiling. On the other side, his fingers brushed along the edge as he began looking through a row of bottles that gave off different stenches. He started picking up random jars and checking the bottom of them for the labels. The jars contained the most interesting of ingredients….Some glowed, some rattled and had to be held down with dark, claw-like objects, and the colors were breathtaking. On one of the shelves, a large book was cracked open containing the descriptions of either the ingredients or potions.

"Take the jar labeled with Ignis Plantate. I'll show you what it does to a potion I'm working on." he told her, nodding towards it as he was noisily gathering some supplies in a drawer. "I can't blame you for not liking the mandrakes. Should've seen my face when my co-worker said we just got a whole bloody shipment of them." he muttered.

"You never told me what your name was." She spoke up on the other side as she shuffled about to help find the jar he had told her to find. Her blue eyes widened and narrowed every time she read a new label, he noticed. They either intrigued or shocked her. Finally she crouched bellow to check that shelf.

Frowning once she was out of sight, he looked at the wall behind her that had a large sign, going on about cautions and procedures. "Draco Malfoy." He announced a second before she popped back into view, her hair in her ponytail flipping over her shoulder. He grinned, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Draco?" She repeated, meeting his eyes with her own calculating ones. Blinking, she was trying to puzzle him together and he could visualize one question after another building on her tongue. He didn't wait for them. Instead, he reached up on a shelf, grabbed a jar he desired, and made way around the shelf. "Did you find what I asked yet?"

Shaking her head, she snapped out of her thoughts and went back to her search. "Er- - Ignis Plantate? That's fire plant, right?" she spluttered out.

With his back to her, he smirked. Astoria the Trainee was unnerved and her shaky tone made it obvious. It was predictable it would happen. As he tried to remain cool, he turned his head over his shoulder. "Yes, actually. Now find it and don't do a summoning charm. A trainee from last year tried that and they ended up having to go upstairs afterwards."

Not daring to look at him, she spun a jar around instead to view the label. "What was the jar you picked up?"

"Dragon scales. Why?"

"Would it be so bad to assume you found it before me and now are waiting for me to find something I can't?"

"Because I'm Draco Malfoy?" he drawled out, glaring at her back.

A bubble of a laugh escaped her, one in disbelief before saying, "No. Because I'm a trainee. It's fun to pick on the new people, isn't it? You're asking for this jar a-and I can't find it. I'm looking and it's not here."

Pausing, he contemplated what to do next. Tilting his head, he held the jar with one hand at his side before walking up behind her. He searched with his own eyes as she carefully looked for what he asked. Directly behind her, she froze in place. Reaching up past her, he grabbed a jar on the higher shelf and lowered it to her sight. "Thanks." She breathed, taking it gently from him before meeting his eyes. He was close, much too close. He got that from the blush that slowly flowered on her cheek. Repressing a wide grin, he slowly took a step back.

"Don't mention it." He said before turning to the alcove. She followed behind him, reading the label on the jar that contained a red-tinted plant inside.

As he wandered over past the tables with her at his heel, he set the jar down on one of them before going towards a wall with gloves hooked on the wall. "You're going to need some gloves. Since Theodore was so kind to drop you off here, you can steal his." he told her, snatching his own pair and his friends. Astoria, meanwhile, set down her own jar on the table and stretched her hand out to him to take the gloves with a small smirk on her lips. It dropped however and she opened her mouth. He braced himself.

"I have a question." She announced, flashing her gaze to meet his. He prepared for the worse. "How long have you been a Potioneer? Is there extra schooling involved?"

Eyes widening, he was taken aback.

She didn't flip out.

She who he was, yet, _nothing_. Usually, they did something; spat a thousand questions at him, scoffed, and commented on how they would allow 'Him of all people to work in the safest environment designed to heal people—-those still injured by the spells _YOU_ probably used!'. A thousand different reactions and she just carried on.

"Also, I'm sorry your friend spontaneously paired you with me. It was obvious you weren't expecting it either." They were still holding opposite sides of a glove with the initials T.N. on them.

It was almost unnerving. He was waiting for it. He was waiting for something—-anything to give away she looked down on him. Why was she just carrying on? What did she know—-what information did she lack? He could feel his heart pumping ever so slightly faster as he stood in front of the glowing cauldron. For a moment, he was just looking down at the damn thing, eyes widening ever so slightly in his panicked thoughts.

_How long have you been a Potioneer_…

"I'll live." He decided to say before fully giving her the damn glove that was possibly going to be a size or two too big. "As for your question, I've been a Potioneer for…hmm….twenty months, I believe. That includes training and dog work to get to this point. I'm not a full Potioneer. Yet. I have been working on this potion here though." With that, he drew attention to a cauldron that was frozen in time. The bubbles were coming off of a purplish liquid that seemed completely still. "Get the Ignis Plantate."

With one glove on and the other under her arm, she reached over and got it from the table behind her.

Smiling some, he continued. "Do you have your wand on you?"

"Yes," she said, slipping the other glove on before going into a pocket to fetch out a wand.

"I'm just going to have you levitate a handful and drop it on the potion. It's—-" a grin started to draw up the corners of his mouth as he fixed his gloves over his hands. "—-pretty neat. I wish they had this stuff back at Hogwarts, but I'd imagine Seamus with it would manage to blow up the school. Luckily for you, I know what I'm doing."

"I think having a fire plant next to Seamus would be dangerous, but worst would be if Hagrid decided to plant it in his garden," she mused aloud, putting the pair of gloves with a T. N. on. "I can very well see him trying to attempt to do so."

"Maybe it's because he's half giant but the word 'danger' doesn't seem to register through his rather thick skull." He grinned as he fastened a strap on his wrist so the gloves wouldn't fall off. If he wasn't so incredibly tired, he would be more than happy to go in a lengthy conversation on the big oaf that was Hagrid.

Realizing she was off topic, she flushed before she shook her head quickly. "Levitate and drop a handful on the potion, got it." She quickly added, set her wand on the table, and stuck her hand right into the jar despite her verbal instructions.

That was her first mistake.

It wasn't exactly the dumbest move he had ever seen. It was just recommended not to physically grab the plant, for if remains got on your hands and touched your skin the possibilities of you catching on fire and getting ultimately burned were high. His eyes widened but he didn't want to startle her for his own sake. He knew she felt it through those gloves, though. There was a slight quirk of her shaped eyebrows before she tossed it into the potion.

That's when his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

He should have been clearer with his directions. In fact, he should have been the one to do it. Was this even allowed? The answer was _probably_ no.

The moment the two leaves touched the potion there was a visible yellow wave from the center of the potion. The sound of sparks broke the thick silence and as quick as lightening, a fire shot two feet hair. One second later, the cauldron sparked to life and a raging fire burst up two feet high. The heat illuminated towards them as their faces glowed red and orange. Then, it turned blue and died down in a crackling noise, whispering around the top of the potion as smoke began to swirl some. The potion itself, which was violet, began bubbling and swirling.

"—-we freeze our potions when we take breaks. That plant restores it back to the state you last had it. Other than that, it's used as a weapon or dragon food." He stated, "—-and don't touch me with those gloves. Go to the sink and wash them in case you have extract. I don't feel like dying today."

"It's a good thing I want to be a Healer." She breathed out as she made her way to the sink, shock masking her face from any other expression. "On the bright side, it's never going to happen again." She told him with a bitter edge, the sound of water coming from the facet. He heard her muttering '_when did you forget you're a __**witch? **__Levitate. With a wand. Merlin! Mother would…_'.

Naturally, he laughed at her under his own breath before turning his attention to his potion and getting out his own wand to help set the fire underneath the cauldron. There was a silence when the water stopped running and it tensed up the muscles on his back.

Going back to their station, she licked her lips, trying to get her words to come out. "Sorry about that." Looking curiously -though carefully- at the violet liquid, other questions already on the tip of her tongue. "Is it safe now? To give it to someone or whatever it is for?" Pausing, she turned to him. "What is it used for? Is it easy to find or prepare?"

One. Two. Three. Four questions tossed his way. The way she pursed her lips and managed to blush yet again showed she was flustered at her own questions. Maybe she just wanted to move past the earlier incident. "What do you think?" he replied back with an easy smirk and a quirk of his eyebrow.

She surprised him by shutting up at last. Three of her questions were obvious. No, it's not safe. Does it, in any way, look safe? No. Is it easy to find or prepare? If it was, why wouldn't he just get it any where else and not be professionally working on it? Twit.

"I'm nearly done with it. Been working on it for three days now. It's a difficult regrowth potion. There's a rare case going around about—"

Before he could finish, he heard muffled footsteps followed by a creak of the door. He stopped his words and looked over his shoulder to find Nott coming in, clapping his hands together and a twinkle in his dark eyes.

"I see you survived my friend, Miss Greengrass." He said, grinning to himself as he seemed to walk on air through the room. His hands turned over some objects on the hard counter before he leaned against it to look at the two.

_Greengrass?_

_His boss's daughter?_

Draco should have turned to Theo first but instead, he met Astoria's eyes first who were fixation on Theo. Disbelief and an odd sense of betrayal waved through him. Snapping out of it, he faced away from his motion.

"No thanks to you." Astoria drawled under her breath, narrowing her eyes at his best mate. Of course she wasn't in the position to completely voice out. Usually interns were told to smile and do what they were told no matter what.

Draco finally found his voice, "Honestly, if you're going to take responsibility for an intern, don't just tell them to stay in a room and hope someone was in here to help."

"Woah—-I knew you were in here, Hothead. You needed to practice your social skills anyway—-"

"—-my social skills?! "

…"I don't see any problem with his social skills," Astoria commented, a finger pointing at the Potioneer beside her just as he had done to her.

_Oh for the love of God, someone just kill me._ He glared just as she had done at the pointing of her finger. Now he realized how annoying that was. On the other side, he was impressed she dared to come between two Slytherins in a completely moronic discussion.

"At least Dra-" she corrected herself in her own mind, as Theodore had told her she was going to be known by her last name instead of first "—Malfoy taught me the use for Ignis Plantate." Glancing at the gloves still in her hands, she smirked to herself at the sight of Theodore's initials. "Now, if this hour is over, care to take me to someone who can teach me something else?"

Looking at his friend, they locked eyes. A silent conversation passed between them. Draco wasn't supposed to let an intern handle the ignis plant. In fact, he should have just left her and refuse to acknowledge her seeing as she wasn't his personal responsibility. It was a risky idea for one and secondly, it was a surprise he knew how to handle an intern in the first place as he always avoided them. He got points for that, and doing his responsibility of an average worker in st. Mungos. The other part of the conversation happened in one simple gesture with Theo drumming his fingers on the counter behind him—-a habit he did when he was feeling anxious about something.

Something was wrong.

As the Slytherin smirked, darkness was filling his orbs as he fought to remain calm. Draco almost wanted to demand what the hell it was but Astoria's presence stopped him.

"So what you're saying is by leaving you, I helped you?" Nott grinned still, making the other Slytherin feel slightly ill. "Well, you're welcome. Glad to be of assistance. What I did moments prior is none of your concern. I was just…clearing my head and preparing…" he trailed off before standing up properly in the room.

"Clearing your head?" Astoria commented, moving forward. "You told me you had something important to do."

Theodore's smile slipped off his face so easily, it became obvious how utterly fake it had been. "You know, Miss Greengrass, you're supposed to speak with respect. Keep that in mind. Now, I actually have a tour planned. So if you will, we have to get moving or more of your _precious _time will be wasted."

Pursing her lips, her face heated up. It wasn't from embarrassment, but bottled anger.

Draco blew out a whistle as he went to a cabinet that contained empty vials as he found Astoria heading over to the glove rack to hang up Theo's gloves. Exchanging one last glance with him, Astoria followed the other Slytherin outside the alcove and into the brighter hallway.

Now it was quiet besides the light bubbling from the potion. The Malfoy heir was unaware he was holding in a breath until he let it out. A short laugh followed out of disbelief as he leaned against the table, holding a single vial and waited for his potion to turn an orange shade. With the irritated state she was in, he wondered whether or not Theo would finally get a hex at the end of the day from the dark-haired brunette with blue eyes and a quick tongue.

Astoria Greengrass.

The name caused him to grin to himself as the urge to hit something grew strong. He wondered if her father ever talked about him to her? His assistant that made him go into town yesterday because of his episode. She could think he was just lazy. He tended to lie to Mr. Greengrass, never wanting to admit he had a problem. He needed to be seen as healthy and stable if he was going to work here. He didn't need them to know about his restlessness and PTSD. It wouldn't benefit him int he slightest. Did lying benefit him at all? Lying was a game made for Slytherins. It was challenging to twist words at your will, it was talent getting someone to belief false information.

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